Later he would marvel at the fact that his heart hadn’t broken out of his chest to try and make a run for one of the windows, though it in no way beat his surprise at the subconscious decision he’d made to lie about his identity, so that he replied without hesitation, Gianni Moretti, as soon as the time came to introduce himself.
Gianni because it was the first thing that came to mind when he thought o
And if the devil were to see you, he would kiss your eyes and repent.—Farouq Gouida
Just as they were about to begin, a ripple seemed to pass over every individual in the Metropolitan’s private casino and all it took was an enquiring glance thrown carelessly over David’s head to identify the new arrival: Teodor Vukomanovic.Camille felt herself still, considered calling the whole thing off, telling Michael that she couldn’t help him before heading home, but of course she remained rooted in her chair, watching as the older man took in the entire room from his vantage point by the door, where men built like slabs of wood with muscles straining under the confines of their black suits flanked his sides.He
MILANIt was said that along with a penchant for spending lavishly on designer wardrobes (as a quick stroll around Via Montenapoleone would soon have you learn) the Milanese moved at a pace quicker than you could expect to find in any other Italian city, save Rome perhaps.On any other day, Nicolo Giorgio De Rossi—CEO and chairman of the De Rossi Group and a two time GQ Man of the Year award winner, among other things—would’ve been contented to sit back and indulge in a power nap as Marco swerved past tourists, ignoring street signs and speed limits in the cutthroat way drivers in that part of the It
Courtesy demanded that Nico should’ve walked straight to the boardroom as soon as he arrived, but his lift up the cramped metal box had—for the second time that morning it seemed—triggered his fear of enclosed spaces, so that by the time he stumbled out muttering a halfhearted goodbye to Timothy the intern, it was all he could do to fight against the irrational panic.Already, his breaths had begun coming out in shallow audible bursts.Nico needed a pick-me-up, but his tight schedule hadn’t afforded him time to indulge in one of his favorite pre-work rituals which involved brewing himself an Espresso and savoring
“You and you, switch spots!”Morgan Pierce’s clear tenor rang through the Museum of Modern Art’s Sculpture Garden and a Canon camera hung precariously in a limp-wristed hand as the two girls he’d spoken to obeyed, changing positions just like he’d told them to.“Yes, yes,” the photographer said with a satisfied smile. He squinted, raised the camera to an eye. “Now pose!”Click. Click. Click.
A woman sat at the bar of the Deluxe with a vacant, far-off expression on her face as if she was not really there. Like she’d upped and left her body behind to fill itself with alcohol until it could take no more.This was the state in which Camille found her best friend.Octavia Tang Carmichael had an ethereal quality about her even sporting a pageboy haircut. Much of it had to do with her fine-boned face, how it happened to be an almost perfect combination of both Eastern and Western features like her name suggested—a pouty mouth, wide brown eyes so dark they looked black in some lights, and slanting cheekbones.
“No you didn’t. We’ve been together for five years.”The other woman made a noncommittal sound, taking another sip of her beer, and once again Camille was reminded of the uncomfortable stalemate she always found herself in when it came to choosing between her best friend and boyfriend.It was an inexplicable feud that began right at their start of their introduction when Milo, with surprising maliciousness, made a comment about the killing of elephants when he saw the ivory figurine she’d gotten as a housewarming gift from her mother, and Tavie, not one to back down, called him out for being an overgeneraliz
CAPRINicolo De Rossi may have come from a family often referred to as the Kennedys of Italy, but he was not a man who went out of his way to act like he did.In fact, save the condo in Lombardy which he’d purchased he could not say for sure if truly there was ever a time he’d gone out of his way to splurge on anything.He had an expensive car and chauffer of course, but these had come with his job; and all of his clothes were purchased by his sister-in-law and be
Later he would marvel at the fact that his heart hadn’t broken out of his chest to try and make a run for one of the windows, though it in no way beat his surprise at the subconscious decision he’d made to lie about his identity, so that he replied without hesitation,Gianni Moretti, as soon as the time came to introduce himself.Gianni because it was the first thing that came to mind when he thought o
Two things stood out to Camille as soon as the bespectacled man stepped into her office.The first was the sheer bulk of him, so that she’d initially thought he was a particularly well-dressed bodyguard, at least until he started to amble forward without hesitation, his gaze leveled steadily on hers in an unspoken challenge that seemed set on daring her to say otherwise—which led to the second thing she noticed abou
For all that he ate like a man who knew it was his last day alive and moved through the world with a slickness that left Nico feeling no small amount of discomfort, his sister-in-law’s belief in Jack Murchison did not go unfounded as the man not only looked into the claims on Camille Delacourt (which proved correct in the end), but took things a step further by pulling on a few strings, which is how barely a week after his conversation with Aria, the CEO of De Rossi Inc. found himself seated in the lobby ofBon Vivant Media, his feet tapping a steady, nervous rhythm into the tile-lined marble floors of the establishment.
Resplendently beautiful in the way only wild things are, with hair so red it looked like it must’ve been dyed even as it was lightened by age, Solange Delacourt could be charming when she wanted to be.An astute manipulator, she fell under that one percent of the population seemingly born with an inherent recognition of the fact that if you did not learn to bend, you would break. One had to be adaptable if they want
From somewhere in the house Luciana started to cry and Aria looked stunned, face devoid of anything even as her wide eyes took him in disbelievingly.“You’re joking.”
He noticed the self-satisfied grin she wore as soon as her face appeared on his MacBook screen; and later he would think of how that should’ve clued him in.“Hey Ari—”
Itwasthe woman from the café, the same one who’d spilt her hot coffee on him when he went after her, Nico admitted finally to himself as he settled into the settee, repositioning himself until he was comfortable before pulling the laptop off the coffee table and onto his thigh; a younger, more naïve-looking version of her perhaps, but her alright.The same big blue eyes in a wickedly magnificent
The deserted sidewalks she’d jogged on only that morning were now packed with pedestrians, corporate types and students on their way to another day of drudgery, depending on what their faces, pinched or otherwise indicated. As Camille joined the masses, becoming just another faceless stranger in the crush of bodies, she pondered on a Machiavelli quote she sometimes turned to when she did not want to think about work, or family, or anything really.
Camille inhaled sharply as she moved in her sleep to stretch out her abused muscles, and all at once she was pulled out of unconsciousness and into a state of artificially heightened alertness that allowed her to take in the room as soon as she opened her eyes, identifying things as soon as they registered.It was still dark outside, and a quick glance at the digital clock by Milo’s side of the bed informed her that it was four in the morning. She’d been asleep for less than three hours, and at this other details began to trickle in as a rather light-headed sense of well-bei